


Of Life Cut Down

by voleuse



Category: Witchblade
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-09
Updated: 2005-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The lurch of trusting the familiar and being caught mid-leap</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Life Cut Down

**Author's Note:**

> Set during S1, no spoilers. Title and summary adapted from Nika Cruz's _Kangaroo_.

She's brewing herself a cup of coffee, staring at a loaf of slightly moldy bread and wondering if it would still make good toast.

She looks at the toaster, and in that second, Danny appears in front of it.

Sara flinches back, swears. "Damn it, Danny. You couldn't warn me before you do that?"

"I'm a ghost, Sara." He smiles, and she can almost see through it. "I'm supposed to be scary."

The coffeemaker splutters to a stop, and she yanks the pot out, a dozen drops of boiling water spattering across her arm. She closes her eyes, pours a cup for herself.

"What now, Danny?" She drinks, burns her tongue. Drinks again. "Serial killer on the loose? Kidnapper? Werewolf?"

She looks at him, and he shrugs.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know." He ignores her when she rolls her eyes. "You never learned to cook?"

She sets down her cup, and in that second of displaced attention, he's gone again.

Sara leans against the counter and wishes time backwards.

*

 

It's two days before she gets to the grocery store. She grabs the usual from the shelves--bread, peanut butter, beer. She's craving something sweet, so she stops by the produce section to grab a few pears.

And she stops, instead, next to another display case. Ginger, heaped carelessly against the glass. She picks up a piece, rubs her thumb against the skin of it.

Once, she'd gone over to Danny's for dinner, stepped into the kitchen while she was looking for the bathroom.

The room was empty, but the meal was clearly still being prepared. Something on the stove was simmering, and on the counter, a piece of ginger was half-way sliced on the cutting board.

Sara brings the ginger up to her nose and inhales deeply.

She forgets to buy her pears.

*

 

She doesn't have a cookbook, doesn't have a first idea of what to do with ginger.

She takes the ginger out anyway, saws a bit of it off using a table knife.

"I wouldn't eat it like that," Danny says from behind her.

She laughs. "No." Looks at him, and his smile is sad. "I like the smell."

"I didn't know you were a fan." He follows her as she walks into the living room.

She sits on the sofa, curls her legs underneath her. Brings the ginger to her nose, and breathes.

"I didn't either," she tells him.

But he's already gone.


End file.
